's the only word for it! But one thing's really awful: the
cursed Austrians meeting one at every turn! ah, these Austrians! By the
way, have you heard, there's been a decisive battle on the Danube: three
hundred Turkish officers killed, Silistria taken; Servia has declared
its independence. You, as a patriot, ought to be in transports, oughtn't
you? Even my Slavonic blood's positively on fire! I advise you to be
more careful, though; I'm convinced there's a watch kept on you. The
spies here are something awful! A suspicious-looking man came up to me
yesterday and asked: "Are you a Russian?" I told him I was a Dane. But
you seem unwell, dear Nikanor Vassilyevitch. You ought to see a doctor;
madam, you ought to make your husband see a doctor. Yesterday I ran
through the palaces and churches, as though I were crazy. I suppose
you've been in the palace of the Doges? What magnificence everywhere!
Especially that great hall and Marino Faliero's place: there's an
inscription: _decapitati pro criminibus_. I've been in the famous
prisons too; that threw me into indignation, you may fancy. I've always,
you remember perhaps, taken an interest in social questions, and taken
sides against aristocracy--well, that's where I should like to send the
champions of aristocracy--to those dungeons. How well Byron said: _I
stood in Venice on the Bridge of Sighs_; though he was an aristocrat
too. I was always for progress--the younger generation are all for
progress. And what do you say to the Anglo-French business? We shall see
whether they can do much, Boustrapa and Palmerston. You know Palmerston
has been made Prime Minister. No, say what you like, the Russian fist is
not to be despised. He's awfully deep that Boustrapa! If you like I will
lend you _Les Chatiments de Victor Hugo_--it's marvellous--_L'avenir,
le gendarme de Dieu_--rather boldly written, but what force in it,
what force! That was a fine saying, too, of Prince Vyazemsky's: "Europe
repeats: Bash-Kadik-Lar keeping an eye on Sinope." I adore poetry. I
have Proudhon's last work, too--I have everything. I don't know how you
feel, but I'm glad of the war; only as I'm not required at home, I'm
going from here to Florence, and to Rome. France I can't go to--so I'm
thinking of Spain--the women there, I'm told, are marvellous! only such
poverty, and so many insects. I would be off to California--we Russians
are ready to do anything--but I promised an editor to study the question
of the co